


To Show that I'm Yours

by UnderOblivionKeeper825



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Wings, Fluff, Hair Braiding, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 09:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19423438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderOblivionKeeper825/pseuds/UnderOblivionKeeper825
Summary: Aziraphale asks Crowley about growing his hair out and instantly regrets it. Some awkward questions and confessions and suddenly, Aziraphale finds his fingers running through the long, red hair he's missed for centuries. Remembering the significance over the course of humanity of braiding someone's hair, he decides to be brave and braid 6000 years of love and yearning into his demon's beautiful hair.But will Crowley understand?This was written as a request. Just some fluff and sappy Ineffable Husbands.





	To Show that I'm Yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlashGod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlashGod/gifts).



“Have you thought about growing out your hair again?”  
Crowley looked up from his phone and eyed the angel sitting across from him at his writing desk. They had been quietly enjoying one another’s company the past few hours, and the sudden question caught Crowley off guard. 

“Uh – well, I hadn’t really thought about it. It was long a few years ago, remember?” Crowley wasn’t sure why Aziraphale was bringing this up, as the demon regularly changed his hair every couple of years in the past few decades. He liked his current hairstyle; it suited him quite well and was very in fashion. Aziraphale hadn’t commented on his hair before. 

Aziraphale’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as he looked at the confused expression on Crowley’s face. 

“Yes, yes, I recall. You wore it half up in that little bun. Around 2012, if memory serves me correctly. However, I meant to its original length. Your curls were so lovely and the way they framed your face was quite fetching and-” Aziraphale stopped himself, his face getting bright red as he realized what he had just said. He glanced over to his friend and saw Crowley’s mouth slightly open in surprise, eyebrows raised, and his glasses sliding down his nose to reveal slightly dilated pupils in his amber eyes. 

“Actually, please just forget I said anything. I don’t even know why I brought it up,” Aziraphale quickly clarified, while getting up and all but running over to the little kitchen at the back of the bookshop to make some tea, leaving Crowley sitting there in stunned silence. He could always miracle some tea, but it just wasn’t quite the same as tea made the human way. 

The sun was going down, and soft, warm light was pouring into the bookshop, giving everything a lovely golden glow. It was early autumn and there was a slight coolness settling in that brought a certain feeling of anticipation of the coming winter as summer faded into a distant memory. It was Aziraphale’s favorite time of year. The change in season always put him in a wonderful mood, as he absolutely loathed summer with its suffocating humidity and long days. 

It was the lighting that made him first take notice. He had been reading one of the new books Adam had gifted him when the bookshop was repaired when he looked up and noticed sunset had engulfed everything in that beautiful, warm glow. This included a certain demon that he, only very recently (and only to himself), had admitted he felt love for in less of an all-encompassing way that angels loved all of God’s creation, but a specific, human, way. 

The light illuminated Crowley and created a halo effect around him. His hair had shone so bright, it almost looked like real fire was inside the strands, forever burning with that vibrant red hue that Aziraphale loved.   
He caught himself remembering back in the Eden when he first met Crowley. His hair fell past his shoulders in perfect ringlets back then. Then, in Mesopotamia, the curls were a bit less structured, and Crowley had added braids to it. Aziraphale remembered thinking how breathtaking Crowley had looked with his hair like that, and he wouldn’t admit to it, but he recalled feeling a surge of jealousy (for the very first time in his existence) at the thought that someone other than Crowley had put done the braid there.  
The last time he saw him with his long hair was in Golgotha, during the execution of Christ. His hair had been partially covered then, in the same fashion as women of those days. It had initially surprised Aziraphale that Crowley chose this but couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased that he could still get a full view of the beautiful, red curls. 

It was these memories that brought him to the embarrassing question that had caused the comfortable silence between the two to take on a charged, uncomfortable air. Aziraphale cursed himself for having said anything as he set the kettle on the stove to boil. Crowley still hadn’t said anything, and given his usual sarcastic, chatty nature, the comments had clearly had an impact on him. 

Aziraphale was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that he didn’t hear Crowley come up behind him.

“Angel,” Crowley started, his voice coming out much softer than he intended, but he didn’t have it in him to tease his angel on this when he was already so clearly embarrassed. 

“Why the sudden interest in my hair? In the 6000 years we’ve known each other, you’ve barely styled yours any different, let alone changed the length. I didn’t even know that you noticed the changes in mine over the centuries, let alone had a preference.”

Aziraphale was having an internal meltdown. He had revealed too much and had absolutely no idea how to play this off without admitting to his true feelings. He loathed his corporeal form for being so obvious with the blushing, racing heart, and sudden shortness of breath. His thoughts raced around wildly as he tried to come up with a half-decent excuse as Crowley eyed him expectantly. 

Having caught on to the angel’s distress, Crowley reached out and softly placed his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders. With a quick flick of his fingers, the stove turned off and the kettle moved off the burner. Crowley led a very distressed angel to the backroom where they had been previously and gently eased him down onto the sofa. He sat down next to him and took his sunglasses off and placed them on the table next to the sofa. 

“Look, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I was just caught off guard by your question and comments and wasn’t sure how to respond.” Crowley was really trying his best to say what he really meant and be honest with Aziraphale now that their respective head offices weren’t checking in on them. 6000 years of pining and hinting around his feelings was long enough wasn’t it? He was still having a hard time fully admitting the true depth of his feelings though; after all, it wasn’t really in a demon’s nature to love anyone but themselves. 

Aziraphale could see the honesty in Crowley’s eyes, and was truly touched by the tenderness that he was treating him with currently. Shaken out of his embarrassment (mostly), he found himself smiling at his best friend. 

“My dear, I should be sorry for reacting the way I did. I’m not quite adjusted to the level of freedom we have now, and I find myself feeling more open to… expressing my true feelings for you in a way that would have previously been very much frowned upon from both our sides. But we’re on our own side now, correct?” A flood gate of honesty had been opened and Aziraphale couldn’t find it within himself to stop talking.

“Yeah, Angel. We’re on our own side now. You and me.” Crowley had a soft smile on his face as looked at the angel he had been in love with for centuries. He took Aziraphale’s comments as a sign that perhaps he wasn’t so alone in his feelings as he previously thought. He noticed Aziraphale nervously worrying the fabric of his vest, so he reached out and took his hands in his own and gently ran his thumbs along the backs of Aziraphale’s hands as he gave a small nod of encouragement for him to continue. 

“I’ve always been rather fond of your hair, my dear. I simply never felt the need to do anything to mine all this time; I never thought much of it past going to the barber every now and then, but that was always more for the experience than necessity.”

“You always did love to indulge in those types of things,” Crowley teased, despite having nothing but a fondness to his voice as he kept rubbing his thumbs comfortingly across the backs of Aziraphale’s hands. 

“Yes well. I’ve always loved your hair. No one else, angel or demon, has such vibrant, lovely hair. It fascinated me from the moment we met. I rather enjoyed watching you change it over the years, but loved that you always kept it that same, beautiful color. It suits you so well, my dear. And while I admit that I do quite like how you have it now, I’ve missed those long curls of yours. They always looked so soft; I couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to run my fingers through it.” 

Aziraphale was gazing at the demon’s hair now, completely unaware of the impact his confession was having on said demon. 

Crowley was wishing he hadn’t removed his sunglasses now, as the sudden influx of light was an indicator that his pupils had blown out quite a bit. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth bloom in his chest at hearing how much Aziraphale liked his hair. He had always been rather proud of it, after all if you were going to do something, might as well do it with style. But he had no idea that the angel had taken such an interest in it from the very beginning. The thought of Aziraphale’s fingers running through it sent sparks of electricity through him as he imagined it. Well, things were different, now weren’t they? They didn’t have to imagine. 

Crowley hummed in thought before pulling his hands back and turning around so his back was to Aziraphale. He stretched out and laid his head on the angel’s lap, looking up at him expectantly. 

“You don’t have to imagine it,” Crowley said softly as he took one of Aziraphale’s hands and placed it on his head. Aziraphale hesitated for a brief moment before flexing his fingers against the demon’s scalp.  
Crowley closed his eyes and hummed happily. Aziraphale screamed with joy in his head as he slowly carded his fingers through Crowley’s hair.

“It’s softer than I imagined – almost like feathers,” he mused as he continued to happily run his fingers through the demon’s hair. 

The sun had completely gone down outside, leaving the bookshop dark. Not wanting the moment to be over Crowley snapped his fingers, locking the front door, turning the sign to ‘closed,’ and instantly turning on the numerous lamps Aziraphale had around the shop.   
The angel chuckled softly to himself at Crowley’s actions, but didn’t mind in the slightest, as he was also enjoying the moment immensely. 

“Worth the wait of 6000 years?” Crowley asked as he looked up at his angel through half-lidded eyes and a contented smile playing across his face. 

Aziraphale drug his fingernails across Crowley’s scalp and was delighted when the action was met with an incredibly happy part sigh, part moan from the demon as his eyes fell shut and he unconsciously leaned his head back further into Aziraphale’s hands. 

“Absolutely, my dear. Although I must admit that I’d really love to braid it like you had it in Mesopotamia. I was always rather partial to your long hair.” 

Crowley was looking up at Aziraphale again, an unreadable expression on his face. These days, there weren’t any implications to braiding someone else’s hair. But Aziraphale had always been old fashioned, and the longing in his voice when expressing his desire suggested something much more intimate than simply playing with a friend’s hair. Crowley thought his heart would stop. Aziraphale wasn’t exactly confessing his love, but the implication of such an intimate act was enough to drown Crowley in such a strong sense of love, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to feel anything else ever again. 

A moment passed as they held one another’s gaze. Suddenly, Crowley’s eyes lit up with such adoration and love that Aziraphale barely noticed that the short strands of hair he had been running his fingers through were now beautiful, long curls. When his brain finally registered what Crowley had done, his mouth fell open a fraction in surprise. Crowley was very particular about his appearance, so his sudden willingness to change his hair so drastically meant quite a lot to the angel. 

“Thank you,” Aziraphale whispered. Crowley simply hummed happily in response as he let his eyes drift shut once more. 

Aziraphale got to work, lovingly running his finger through the hair he had only ever dreamed about. He recalled a time when braiding someone else’s hair had a true significance. Whether it was a family member or a lover, the various styles all represented something different about the relationship. He went through multiple styles in his mind, until he settled on one that he truly felt fit his feelings for his life-long companion. He slowly and methodically separated and weaved the hair together in an intricate pattern across Crowley’s head, pouring every ounce of love and affection he had into the act. It felt unreal that he was actually getting to do this, and his hands shook slightly as the gravity of the situation fell on him. Crowley grew out his hair for him, he had laid his head in Aziraphale’s lap, and he was letting him braid his hair in whatever fashion he desired. It was an immensely serious act of trust and affection on his part, and Aziraphale could hardly breathe (not that he needed to, of course), as the realization that Crowley most likely felt the same as he did. 

Looking down at the keeper of his heart, he was pleased to see the look of true peace on Crowley’s face – a very rare sight indeed. Aziraphale recalled that at times, tokens of a lover were woven into the braids as a symbol of the relationship and devotion. He didn’t want to be presumptuous about such a thing, but he had a feeling that Crowley wouldn’t mind. So, without making a sound, he unfurled his wings behind himself and with one hand still in Crowley’s hair, he reached back and pulled out some of the short, fluffy covert feathers and a few of his long, white tertiaries before pulling his wings back out of existence. 

“You’re so beautiful, my dear,” Aziraphale whispered as he twisted the feathers into place, finding himself incredibly please at how his bright, white feathers contrasted with the fiery red of Crowley’s hair. He was nearly finished with the intricate pattern and found that his long tertiaries worked perfectly as pins to hold the braid in place. 

Crowley didn’t respond verbally, but visibly shuddered at the compliment as Aziraphale put the finishing touches on the design by pulling a few strands loose to frame Crowley’s face. 

Aziraphale was quite pleased with his work and was anxious and excited for Crowley to see it. He really wanted to know what Crowley thought, and wanted even more for him to understand the significance of the pattern and feathers. However, he was also terrified at the thought that he had gone too far, and Crowley would be uncomfortable and the blatant display of love and affection. He recalled back to that night in Crowley’s Bentley when he had said, “You go too fast for me, Crowley.” The thought of a similar sentiment being repeated back to him now, after everything they had gone through in the past few years, was enough to make his heart clench in absolute terror. 

“All done up there, Angel?” Crowley asked quietly as he looked up at Aziraphale. His eyes had a bleary, dreamy quality to them, as if he had just woken up from the world’s best dream. The sight filled Aziraphale with warmth and more affection and love then he thought possible. He reached over and grabbed Crowley’s hand and gave it a small squeeze.

“All done, my dear. Would you like to see it?” He was incredibly nervous but couldn’t deny that if waited any longer for Crowley’s reaction, he would lose his mind.

“Do you even have any mirrors here? I’d miracle one, but we may have reached our limit on frivolous miracles for the day.” 

Well, shit. Aziraphale only had two mirrors in the flat above the bookshop. One in his bathroom (used primarily for overindulgent baths when the mood struck him) and one in the bedroom he rarely used (it was more of a place to store his clothes than anything else, as he never really slept). Aziraphale cleared his throat nervously before telling this to Crowley. 

In the hundreds of years that Aziraphale had owned and lived in his bookshop, Crowley had never really seen most of the upstairs flat beyond the sitting room and kitchen. His curiosity to see both the rest of the angel’s home and the braid that he had done were growing by the second. He wasn’t used to the wait of the extra hair on his head but had thoroughly loved the feeling of Aziraphale braiding it and decided that he would keep it at this length for as long as Aziraphale wanted. Right now, though, he just wanted to see what kind of braid he had on his head. Would it be something showing friendship? Familial love? Or a romantic love? His heart leapt just thinking about the last one. 

“Well, let’s go then,” Crowley said as he grabbed Aziraphale’s hand again and pulled him towards the bedroom (Yes, he chose the more intimate of the two rooms, can you blame him?).   
Aziraphale was quiet as they got to the room. It was an average sized room. A large bookshelf lined the wall opposite the door, holding all Aziraphale’s favorites that he didn’t want customers even considering touching. A wardrobe and dresser lined the wall to the right of the door. Small trinkets from moments throughout the years caught Crowley’s eye, but he decided not to comment on that for now. Next to the door, along the wall was a vanity with a few bottles of cologne sitting on it and a large mirror hanging above it. A king-sized bed was lined up against the wall to the right. Even though he didn’t sleep, Aziraphale occasionally like to sit in the bed and read. The bed wasn’t as opulent as Crowley had expected. It had a simple, burgundy colored (the angel did always love wine) comforter and plenty of pillows in cream tones that complimented the rest of the room. It looked extremely comfortable, and Crowley desperately wanted to see if it was as soft and cozy as it looked, but he had more important matters right now. 

“Don’t stand there all night, Crowley. You’re making me anxious.”  
Crowley laughed a bit.

“Sorry, just never expected you to even have a bedroom. I like it. Suits you.”

Well what could Aziraphale possibly say to that? He made a small noise of agreement as he guided Crowley over to the vanity so he could inspect Aziraphale’s work.  
Crowley was at a lost for words at what he saw. His hair had been woven into an intricate crown of sorts. Two smaller braids at his temples met and combined into one that wrapped around his head and spiraled in on itself. Small, pristine white feathers were dotted along the smaller braids and throughout the rest of the pattern. He gasped softly as he realized that Aziraphale had used his own feathers in his hair. His tertiaries looping throughout the spiral at the back and pining the whole thing in place. The sentiment and significance were not lost on Crowley. He carefully ran his fingers over the braid, practically feeling the love that Aziraphale had poured into it, into him. He always thought he looked too sharp, all angles and harsh points. But the way Aziraphale had done his hair, leaving a few strands loose around his face, combined with the look of awe on his face made him look soft for what he felt was the first time in his existence. 

Crowley ran all the styles and meanings of braids through his head before he fully recalled what this particular braid meant. The significance took the breath out of his lungs once he remembered: this braid was done by a lover that was courting and was seen as a sign of devotion (the small pieces of themselves added to show that) and a request to the person wearing the braid to be with them forever. Humans saw this as an engagement braid, but given that neither he nor Aziraphale were human, they didn’t really follow standard traditions. Crowley saw the deeper meaning there. Aziraphale was telling Crowley that he was ready. Ready to accept Crowley’s love and devotion and ready to completely and fully return it. Ready to spend the rest of eternity by his side. If Crowley accepted, then he would ask Aziraphale to take the braid down later, demonstrating his complete trust and willingness to accept the offer. 

“Please say something, my dear,” Aziraphale whispered anxiously. Crowley had been silent for a few minutes now, and it felt like a small eternity to the angel as he nervously awaited the verdict. 

Crowley felt tears well up in his eyes, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t care. He turned around to his angel and let his love overwhelm him completely, no longer fighting to rein it in as he always had for fear that Aziraphale would sense it and get uncomfortable. He grabbed his angel by the shoulders and pulled him tightly to himself and hugged him. Lost for words but doing his best to demonstrate how he felt. He wrapped on arm around his shoulder and his other hand rested against the back of the angel’s head with his fingers in his hair.

Aziraphale was stunned and still for a moment before relaxing into the embrace. He wound his arms around Crowley’s back and held onto him tightly. 

“I’ll take it you like the braid then,” Aziraphale lightly joked. There was no real teasing in his voice though. 

“Angel, how long?” Crowley quietly asked into Aziraphale’s neck as he held onto him, afraid his legs would give out at any second. 

Aziraphale didn’t need Crowley to clarify. He knew what he was asking. How long had he loved him this way? There was no sense in saying anything other than the truth, so he answered honestly.

“I was drawn to you the moment I met you there on the wall in Eden. I assumed the affection I felt then was the same that I felt for all of God’s creation. When we met again in Mesopotamia, and you went on about saving all those children, I truly think that was the moment my love for you went deeper than the simple love angels are supposed to feel. Each time we crossed paths again, I felt my love for you grow. I was unwilling to admit it to myself, because we were on opposite sides. I wasn’t supposed to even like you let alone love you in such a way.”  
Aziraphale could feel Crowley shaking a bit as he confessed all of this. He began rubbing small circles into his back to soothe him as he continued. 

“It wasn’t until I saw you hoping around in a church to save me from a bunch of Nazis, only then to not only save me, but my books that I fully realized and accepted that I was in love with you. Only then was I willing to accept all your acts of kindness and al the times you saved me as something more than a part of the Arrangement. But I still couldn’t say or do anything. Not with the likes of Heaven and Hell checking up on us. But we’re free now. Free to be on our side fully. Free to be together without having to hide. Oh, my love, I never want to have to hide from you or anyone else ever again.”

Crowley felt like time was standing still again. Aziraphale, the only being he had ever loved and yearned for, for 6000 years, had just said everything Crowley had been dying to hear. With what was becoming a very out-of-character pattern for him tonight, Crowley was speechless. He pulled back, with his arms still wrapped around his angel, to look at him.

“Oh dear, have I upset you? You’re crying.” Aziraphale looked concerned as he placed a hand on Crowley’s face to wipe away the tears that had started falling. 

“Angel, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” Crowley whispered in a shaking voice as he pulled Aziraphale closer and finally, finally, after multiple lifetimes of waiting, kissed him with all of the love and adoration of 6000 years. 

Aziraphale gasped softly against Crowley’s lips before returning the kiss full force. An entire existence spent loving, yearning, and devoting to one another was poured into the kiss. Crowley could vaguely remember the feeling of being in Heaven, of being an angel, and creating the stars, but all of that was nothing compared to the overwhelming feeling of finally getting to love and kiss his angel without restraint. He felt as if all the bad, evil, and pain inside of him was being pushed out by a warm, bright, and powerful feeling that was Aziraphale’s love. He burned with it and never wanted to feel anything else ever again. 

Aziraphale was having a similar experience. A lifetime denying a love so strong had finally come to an end. He let his love flow into Crowley freely and finally put down any barriers and let Crowley’s love crash into him full force. How Crowley could ever see himself as anything other than good and perfect was beyond Aziraphale as he felt the deep love, caring, and devotion that Crowley felt towards him. He had never felt more amazing in his entire existence. Nothing compared to this. He felt as if their very souls were becoming one, as if they were one being finally becoming whole again after a lifetime spent searching for their other half. 

When they finally pulled apart to breathe (even though neither of them really needed to), they rested their foreheads against one another. 

“I love you, Aziraphale. Always have. Always will,” Crowley promised.

“I love you too, Crowley. Oh, my darling, I am so sorry I made you wait so long.”

“I would have waited another 6000 years for you if I had to, Angel.”

The only answer Aziraphale had to that was to kiss him again. This one was much less urgent. It was a slow kiss, filled with all the tenderness and affection they could possible manage. 

Aziraphale reached his hand up to Crowley’s hair, suddenly remembering the braid that had started this whole thing. Crowley, sensing Aziraphale’s distraction pulled away and smiled lovingly at his angel. He turned around and sat down at the vanity, looking at Aziraphale in the mirror.

“Would you take it down for me?” 

Aziraphale felt tears in his eyes as he nodded and realized that his message had been fully received. Gently, with as much care as he had put into creating the braid, he slowly removed his feathers and placed them on the vanity in front of Crowley as he carded his fingers into his hair and removed the braid. Crowley sighed happily and leaned his head back into Aziraphale’s hands as he worked. 

Once the braid was completely removed, Crowley’s hair hung past his shoulders in soft, flowing waves. He grabbed one of the longer tertiary feathers on the vanity and stuck it behind his ear, smiling at Aziraphale as he turned to face him. 

As he pulled his angel down for another kiss he whispered softly against his lips.

“To forever.” His tone full of all the love be was possible capable of. 

“To forever.” Aziraphale responded against his love’s lips as he sealed their promise with a kiss.

Aziraphale marveled at how much things could change over the course of one evening. He was never too fond of change, and typically kept things the same for as long as he possibly could. But as he pulled Crowley back to the bed and felt his demon on top of him as they sunk into the bed while continuing to kiss, he mused that maybe some change was really for the best.


End file.
